


Hold me?

by lilas_not_okay



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coffee, Comfort, Cuddling Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Fluff, Insomnia, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:13:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24747385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilas_not_okay/pseuds/lilas_not_okay
Summary: Dean can't sleep. Sure, he can survive on just a few hours, but he needs something. And the only thing that helps his insomnia? Cas. One night, it's especially bad and Cas has to resort to new measures to help him sleep.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 128





	Hold me?

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written in forever, but then I found this WIP in my notes app and decided to finish it. Gotta say, I don't hate it. ALSO, PSA: Black Lives Matter. End of story. No ands, ifs, or buts. BLACK. LIVES. MATTER.

Dean can't sleep. Every time he closes his eyes, memories of his past mistakes cloud his brain, and he ends up opening them again. He sighs, flipping over for what feels like the thousandth time. The blanket feels all wrong. His pillow isn't in the right place. The memory foam mattress Dean loves doesn't feel as good as normal. He gives up again, staring up at the ceiling with tired eyes. There are stains on it. Maybe they should repaint the bunker tomorrow. 

A soft knock at the door pulls Dean out of his sleep deprived thoughts and back into the realm of semi-sanity. The, "come in," he grunts isn't quiet or pleasant, but Cas doesn't seem put off as he steps in the room, closing the door behind him with a gentle click. "Dean?" He whispers into the dark, groping for the lamp on the desk. 

When he finally finds the switch, the room is filled with soft yellow light. Cas stands by the desk, missing his trench coat in a rare instance. He's in his version of pajamas, one of Dean's old t-shirts and a pair of soft, worn-out jeans. His feet are bare on the cold concrete floor, but he doesn't seem to notice or care. Dean lies spreadeagled on his bed, looking at Cas with faked annoyance. 

"What do you want, man?" Dean grumbles.

"I could tell that you were still awake, and I assumed you might want some company."

"Sure, sure. But sit down, you can't just stand there all night." Patting the bed beside him, Dean heaves over to one side of the bed, making room for Cas to sit down. The angel wastes no time flopping down on the mattress and leaning back against the headboard. He's used to visiting Dean when insomnia strikes. He enjoys these visits, though they usually only consist of whispered conversations or quiet music from Dean's cassette player. Dean is closer to him than normal, but he thinks nothing of it. It's pleasant, the body heat through their thin shirts. 

"Well, any news?" Dean attempts grumpily, taking the opportunity to lean even closer to Cas. 

"No, nothing from Heaven. The angels have been silent for several days."

"Oh," Dean grunts, disappointed. He had been hoping he could start a conversation, anything to listen to Castiel's soothing voice. He'll never admit it, but listening to Cas helps him sleep. Just having him near can help, even. Maybe that would help tonight? His insomnia is even worse than normal, and the few times he managed to drop off he had nightmares. Surely Cas won't mind.

Dean clears his throat, and says awkwardly, "Hey, Cas, you wanna get comfy? It doesn't seem like I'm gonna get to sleep any time soon." 

Smiling faintly, Cas says nothing, but slides down and shifts to one side so he's fully lying down next to Dean. Their faces are inches apart in the dim light, and Dean's glad it's dark enough to conceal the blush almost definitely spreading across his cheeks. Cas is closer than Dean normally allows, and it's turning him into a awkward teenage girl. 

"You comfy?" Dean asks, still fighting the blush. Although, it starts right back up again when Cas hums in contentment and answers with a simple, "Yes." 

They lay there in silence for several moments, not once breaking eye contact. It's not not-awkward, but it really isn't as awkward as it should be. Eventually, Cas breaks the silence with, "Dean, it seems that you aren't falling asleep. Would you like me to go?"

"No!" Dean yelps, then much quieter, "No. You can stay, it's better to have company than just driving myself nuts in here."

Cas nods as much as possible while keeping eye contact and lying down. Which isn't much. "Alright. Would it possibly help if I... held you? I've been told that physical touch is comforting and relaxing. Perhaps you would be able to rest if you were more relaxed?" There was a vulnerability in his words, like he fully expected Dean to decline. Which, usually, he would. Friends don't cuddle friends to go to sleep, obviously. But at this point, Dean's mind isn't functioning properly, what with only two brain cells at the helm. 

After some questionable throat clearing, Dean answers with a weak, "Yeah, that'd be okay." 

Cas wastes no time moving much closer to Dean, studying him for a moment before quietly saying into his ear, "Why don't you turn around? We'll fit better." 

The traitorous blush once again invading his cheeks, Dean nontheless flips over without question, and Cas snuggles - perhaps not the most dignified way to describe an angel, but it is accurate - up to Dean's back. A long arm wraps around his stomach, pulling them even closer. Dean can feel Cas' chin hook over his shoulder, and he lets go of some of the tension in his back. The angel's breath ruffles the hair on the back of his neck, and he sighs as he covers Cas' arm around his waist with his own. He has to admit, the warmth is comforting. Especially Cas' warmth. The guy's like a human-sized space heater, it's ridiculous. 

As Cas' breath evens and slows, Dean's mind slows with it. He fully relaxes, pressing back into Cas gently. As the intrusive thoughts stop, he can finally think clearly. One thing he realizes as they lay in comfortable silence: he likes this. He likes this a lot. He wants to go to sleep like this every night, he wants to wake up like this every morning. The way Cas is holding him reminds him of everything good he's ever had, of long lazy drives at sunset and looking at the stars from the hood of his car and his favorite song leaking softly out of his speakers. It's good, it's safe, it's what he's been hoping someone would give him since he was four years old. 

The silent tears start to stream down Dean's cheeks without permission and as if summoned back to concisousness, Cas speaks. His voice is full of sleep and smoke (something Dean has never heard from the angel, but believe him, he's not complaining) as he says quietly into Dean's ear, "Dean? What's happened?"

"Nothing... nothing bad, man. Just..." Dean trails off. Cas makes a move to sit up, to check on him, but he's stopped by a hand on his own. Dean grabs at Cas' hand desperately, trying to keep him right where he needs him. Right next to Dean, that's where he belongs. The angel lays back down, slotting himself into his space behind Dean and wrapping his arms back around the human that he forgets is so fragile. It's easy for an entity like him to forget that a man so powerful is just that: a man. He's not a child, he's not naive, he's not defenseless, but all Castiel wants to do is protect him. He doesn't need protecting, but maybe he wants it. 

After a moment of gentle snuffling, Dean speaks. His tone lacks the normal rough edges, and Cas has never seen him this raw. "I, um, I like this. I want to keep doing this, if that's... if that's okay."

"I like this too," Cas says softly. "Sleep well, Dean."

•••

Dean wakes up to a warm bed and an angel with surprising stealth. Cas isn't holding him, but he is sitting on the end of the bed criss-cross-apple-sauce holding a cup of coffee that he somehow managed to obtain without waking Dean. The mug is one Dean bought for him, a yellow honeycomb background with golden bees. As Dean glances around the room, he notices another steaming mug on the bedside table. He gives Cas a sleepy smile and reaches for it. They drink their coffee in companionable silence, sitting at opposite ends of the bed with their feet touching through the covers. Dean doesn't say anything, but his face is as unguarded as it ever gets, his walls broken down. When the coffee is long gone, they make their way out to the kitchen for more solid sustenance, shuffling side by side like two very well rested zombies. 

Sam gives them a relieved, if slightly teasing, smile when they leave Dean's bedroom together, but doesn't comment. In turn, Dean gives him a death glare and graciously refrains from committing fratricide at eight in the morning. Exactly what Sam expected. Nonverbal death threats, check. He'll talk to Dean about it, but later. For now, he'll just let them be.


End file.
